As I stand at the edge of some faraway field  
 I stare at her precious face from a distance  
Her fragile beauty scares me  
I imagine touching her skin 
so soft like virgin pillowy down  

I helplessly stare into the depths  
of her perfect cat-like eyes
 which conceal the craggy bottom  
  of turquoise oceans in turmoil  

As a cool flowing breeze blows  
  gently across the plain  
     I see her flaxen hair wave easily about her 
her scent is carried on the 
          wind toward me 
        my senses are overwhelmed as I receive her essence 
 

     it fills me to the brink, intoxicating  

Her sweet, whisper soft lips 
are like velvet-honey  
a gentil shade of rouge  
delicious and full and waiting  
contemplate the possibility of 
 winning her love  

She stands alone, waiting... 
for whom I do not know  

As her gaze passes through 
                 me and beyond  
    A friendly smile crosses her lips  
          She is everything I ever dreamed beauty
could be  
      still she stands waiting...  

    I cannot go to her 

                                                                   Apollo~ 

                                                                ©December 1997